264/365 - 267/365


02.01.11
No inclinations
for writing out poetry;
yet the moon still breathes.

02.02.11
Huddled in the cold,
students shuffle cigarettes
to winter's chapped lips.

02.03.11
A dull ache pounds tight
on the edge of my temples;
winter shifts outside.


267/365, originally uploaded by d_g_s.

02.04.11
A moment defined.
Grackles scatter everywhere,
scattering winter.

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